In two hours from now, I turn 25.
I should be happy.
I always imagined I will be happy.
I always wanted to be older. And 25 sounds like as perfect an age as any, no? When you’re old enough to have done so many things in life.
But what happens, when you wake up, and realize, you’ve done none of the things you thought you would have by 25?
What happens when you turn 25 at a time when every morning, you can barely figure out a reason to get out of bed to begin with?
Someone today asked me about my story. He caught me by surprise. Ever done one of those assignments in school, when you write your autobiography? Ever answered one of those ‘Where do you see yourself five years from now’ questions? Did you answer one five years ago? Are you there now? Will you even be there in another 5 years?
What went wrong?
I had a plan. A 5 year plan. A 10 year plan. And then it all went wrong. So wrong.
There is a simple way of making plans work.
You stick to them.
But I didn’t. I lost my way. And I have enough anger and resentment in me today to fuel a space ship to Pluto. And most of it is aimed at me. I can blame others, but why bother. At the end of the day, I’m the one who didn’t stick to the plan. And nobody forced me not to.
So the time has come, I guess, to sit down and make yet another plan. And this time, to remember, what’s really important.
To stick to it.
P.S. I also got another surprise. I was told by someone relatively new in my life, that I crib more than a rather cribby common friend we have. And that’s when I realized just how big a pain-in-the-ass I must have turned into nowadays for people around me. For the older ones, who are currently rolling their eyes reading this, yes, believe it, I’ve gotten worse.
So I guess I know where to start with the plan.
P.P.S. Any suggestions on how to be one of those annoyingly chirpy optimistic positive people? Suggestions from extremely unlucky and old people would be mucho appreciated!